


Did I Ever Make a Sound

by waterloggedroots



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Evan Needs a Hug, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, also i tagged hinted evan/connor bc why else would he think about connor beforehand, i don't think i'm actually capable of writing anything other than angsty one-shots, it's basically just evan "falling" from a tree, o o p s i forgot about zoe at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-11 14:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13526601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterloggedroots/pseuds/waterloggedroots
Summary: And then he's on the ground, and he's very much still here.





	Did I Ever Make a Sound

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [Waving Through A Window](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfnMvo87fQU)
> 
> Note: Dark themes ahead; I've put warnings in the tags, so please don't read if you think you might be triggered by it, and stay safe everyone! Please remember that there are people out there who care, people who will notice and care if you disappear, and if it gives you any consolation, know that, even if I don't know you, I care about each and every one of you. If you do decide to read, I hope you enjoy!

He doesn't really know what day it is; the day, the month, not even the time on his watch. Time seems to blur, like the tips of the tallest trees blur against the sky.

He doesn't like to remember what day it was anyway, looking back.

He's all alone in Ellison Park, standing in a grove, looking up. The soft chirps and chatter of the wildlife fill his ears, the soft breeze ruffling his hair, and the clouds in the sky are far and few between. The soft whisps remind him of cotton, and he offhandedly wonders what they might feel like if he could grab a handful.

It's probably some silly, childish thought like that that drives him to start climbing the oak tree nearest to him, and he finds himself hauling his body up past branch after branch before he can really register what he's doing. His head feels like it's stuffed full of clouds, and he can't really think, but he's content to let his body go, climbing higher and higher, the ground so far below him now.

It's not long before he's climbed as far as he can go. The entire sky seems to open up above him, the sun shining down on his face, and he realizes he can see so much up here, can probably even see his house if he squints hard enough. Or maybe he's just imagining it. He's never actually thought about whether or not he would be able to see his house from here.

His mind wanders as he takes in the many roofs of his hometown, the cookie-cutter houses all neatly lined up, not an inch out of place. Everything looks so perfect, so clean, and he can't help but think _it's because I'm not there._

_No, that's not true._

_But what if it is?_

No one really knows him at his school. It's nice, he guesses, because his anxiety would probably get in the way of making an actual friend anyway, but it's still lonely. It still hurts. It feels like he's invisible, like he's not actually there. The only person he has aside from his mom is Jared, and even then, they're only friends because their families know each other; the boy doesn't _actually_ care for him. Well, it's not like he would be able to easily return the sentiments, were there any there at all, but maybe it would be nice to have someone his age to talk to, someone who actually cared.

Instead, he walks alone through the school halls, always the person on the outside looking in. All his classmates surround him, standing at their lockers chatting with their friends, but no one ever pays him any attention; no one ever hears his voice, or if they do they just ignore him. He could probably yell at the top of his lungs, and no one would turn their head to look. He could probably stand right smack in the middle of the walkway, waving his arms in the air, and no one would spare him a second glance.

He tried that once, kinda. One day he just stopped in the middle of the hall, amidst the throng of students making their way to their classes. Everyone just walked past him, like he wasn't there, like there wasn't a guy in a striped polo just standing there, parting the crowd as they streamed past him, like a rock in the middle of a brook.

A thought pops into his head. He wonders, _what if I fall?_

The branch under him is thick, secure. It wouldn't be easy to break it, even with the weight of a person on it. There's really no danger of falling and getting hurt that way.

But the _what if_ sticks with him.

Jared would probably make some joke about him trying to imitate a squirrel or something and failing miserably, because when has he actually succeeded at something? Yeah, that sounds like something Jared would say. He's always been the butt of his jokes, anyway, so why would this be any different?

His mom... his mom would get over it. She'd probably be happy that she won't have to pay for anxiety pills or doctor visits anymore. She'll have more money in her pocket, more money to do all the things she's always wanted to do but never had the chance to, all those things she rants to him about at the dinner table.

His dad wouldn't care. He left without a word; never sent letters, never sent money, never tried to keep contact like he assumes any other estranged father would have done. His dad probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash at the news, if it ever reached him.

Alana? He supposes she's the only one at school who's ever taken notice of him. But, then again, she talks to everyone. She's probably 'acquaintances' with everyone at school, if only to have people to gossip with. Try as she might, she's a talker, not a listener.

Connor. _Right._ The guy who talks to no one, and in return, no one talks to him. The only time he's interacted with Evan is to call him a loser or push him into his locker in the hall. He'd probably jump for joy, except he's probably not the type of person to do that.

And, Zoe... well, it's not like she even knows he exists. _'Evan? I'm sorry, Evan who? No, I don't think I've ever heard that name.'_ Her life would never know the difference between him still existing and a world without him in it.

The teachers might be mournful; but, then again, they'd be that way with any kid who kicked the bucket too soon or decided maybe his life wasn't worth living anymore. The kids at school would probably perk up at the news of a death, something exciting in their monotone lives. They'd pretend they knew him, pretend to be a part of his story just so they can be a part of the tragedy, so they could bask in the attention their teachers and parents and fellow classmates would provide; after all, everyone wants to feel like they're a part of something bigger. Then, a couple of weeks would pass, and he'd be forgotten, just like that. When a leaf falls, the tree keeps living; the trees in the park would keep growing, just as the wind would keep blowing, just as the world would keep on spinning. Life doesn't stop for a pathetic kid who decides to fall out of a tree because he can't muster up the courage or a better way to off himself. Their lives would go on, even if his stopped.

He takes a breath (a last, if you will), and scoots off of the branch.

It wasn't very thought-through, he supposes, but maybe that's for the better. Maybe it's for the better that he didn't really take into account the branches he'd hit as he free-falls, the ground zooming closer with every second that ticks by as his surroundings zip past him, the greens and blues and browns blurring together.

And then he's on the ground, and he's very much still here. A little worse for wear, he thinks, taking note of the sharp pain in his left arm, the one he landed on, but he's here. (Figures; of course he'd fuck _this_ up, too.) His arm is starting to go numb, and he can't recall if he even cried out from the pain.

He's on his back, and he finds himself looking up at the same view he had when he first looked up.

It's so quiet.

Shouldn't it be quiet, though? He's the only one here. He's the only one that really ever comes here. Usually, he's grateful for the peace and silence, but now he wonders what would have happened if there were other people at the park.

He wonders if anyone else would have heard him, if they would have seen him. With no one else here, it's like he never even climbed the tree, like he never even fell. Did anything even happen? Did he ever make a sound?

The pain in his arm suggests otherwise, but the thought clears, leaving his head empty and quiet as he watches the sky. He watches the clouds pass, watches the tops of the trees wave in the gentle breeze, listens as the sounds of nature continue on, like any other day.

He doesn't actually expect anyone to find him, seeing as no one is here and no one saw him, but he still lays there, waiting. _Any second now. Maybe someone will come get me. Any second now, here they come._

It's probably ten minutes later that he finally sits up, cradling his left arm close to his body. He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials his mom, pressing the phone up to his ear, waiting. It goes to voicemail, unsurprisingly, and he gives up the second time the automated message greets him. His boss is next, and he waits silently as the ringback tone sounds in his ear, adding to the gentle noise around him.

His voice is soft, a slight stutter present as he explains the situation, that he fell out of a tree, and he thinks his arm is broken. He's quiet as his boss' truck shows up at the park, quiet on the ride to the hospital, quiet as he sits in the emergency room, quiet as his name is called.

When he finally gets out, the waiting room is empty.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~coughs i totally didn't project a bit on Evan~~
> 
>  
> 
> come yell at me if ya want @ waterloggedroots.tumblr


End file.
